


up in our bedroom before/during/after the war

by nonbeaunary



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Canon, Songfic, a crown of candy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25077679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbeaunary/pseuds/nonbeaunary
Summary: Caramelinda and Lazuli, together in the morning. Caramelinda, alone in the mourning.
Relationships: Caramelinda Rocks/Lazuli Rocks
Comments: 11
Kudos: 15





	up in our bedroom before/during/after the war

_wake up, say good morning to_

_that sleepy person lying next to you_

_if there's no one there, then there's no one there_

_but at least the war is over_

Caramelinda’s eyes flutter open. Lazuli is already awake, her forehead centimeters away on the plush meepmallow pillows. The Archmage’s deep purple eyes are filled with the same intense attention she grants to the ancient Sucrosi artifacts in her study, meticulously noting every detail. There is reverence in her gaze as she traces the arch of Cara’s strong brows, the smattering of deep brown freckles across her collarbone. Caramelinda’s breath catches as Laz gently takes her hand and plants a soft kiss to the deep caramel veins of her wrist. Despite such a long courtship, Caramelinda cannot help but teeter deliciously on the edge of being overwhelmed when she finds herself in the full beam of Lazuli’s attention.

“Good morning my love”

“I think you’ll find that after last night, I am not just your lover, but your wife”

Caramelinda smiles and pulls her hand from Laz’s grasp, instead placing her palm on her wife’s cool blue cheek, “And you may yet gain another title, and then you shall be my Queen as well”.

“The only station I have ever, or will ever, desire is whatever position I may occupy that at any given moment I may be by your side” Lazuli leans forward and kisses Caramelinda deeply, hungrily. Cara pours herself into the kiss, entangling her legs with Lazuli’s and pulling her in even closer, as though to melt their bodies together into one being. Their fingers interlace, and the morning sun glints off the words carved into their twin golden bands, “In sweetness, there is strength”.

_it's us, yes, we're back again_

_here to see you through 'til the day's end_

_and if the night comes, and the night will come_

_well at least the war is over_

It is long before morning, the lavish bedchamber cold and dark. Without the golden light of the bulb, the rich brocades hang listlessly around the massive four-poster bed. Caramelinda awakens from a restless slumber, automatically reaching out to the other side of the bed to find comfort. Like many nights recently, her hand finds only cool milksilk sheets. She sits up and sees that the door at the far end of the bedchamber is cracked open, spilling over a faint blue light. Caramelinda stands, wrapping herself in a blanket from the foot of their bed. The sweet spun fibers follow her footsteps across the polished dark chocolate floorboards to the partially open door. She places one hand on the heavy door and pauses. Sitting at a huge drafting desk is the Archmage Lazuli, scrolls and parchment spread across the desk and pinned onto the wall, spiraling on the floor around her. Gently rotating around her head are four glowing blue orbs, casting multiple shadows across the shelves that line this chamber. Cara can see her lips twitching as she soundlessly mutters, eyes rapidly scanning a rice paper scroll. Laz sighs and closes her eyes. Silently, Caramelinda pushes open the door and steps into the chamber. She steps lightly next to where Laz sits, eyes still closed, and crouches down until her head is level with her wife’s. Cara leans over to press her lips to Lazulis cheek, sliding her blanket cloak from around her to wrap around Laz’s shoulders.

“Come to bed my love.”

Lazuli sighs deeply and leans into her touch. “Dispatch from Sapphria. The Ceresians have been restocking their troops with weaponry, but it’s not clear where these supplies are coming from.”

She turns to look at Cara, letting her head fall to rest on her wife’s arm. Fondness shines from her eyes, even through the dark circles and furrowed brow that had become permanent residents on her visage. Caramelinda’s heart flutters in her chest. She cannot help but smile, even has her half-awake brain immediately begins processing Sapphria’s missive and what it could mean for the war. Carn and Ceresia may be forming alliances and trading weapons, but there have also been rumours of a ‘miracle worker’ in Ceresia, who may be creating alchemical weaponry-

“I wish I was out there. With Sapphria, with Rococoa. Watching over Citrina.”

“Laz, we need you here at the castle. They need you at the monastery. _I_ need you.”

“The castle doesn’t need me. It does just fine, as long as you’re here cleaning up after Jadian at court.”

“Perhaps, but _I_ need you here to keep me sane as I continuously have to wake your father at war councils.”

Lazuli laughs. It’s the most beautiful thing Caramelinda’s ever heard.

“That _is_ my most sacred role as Archmage.”

“And my most sacred role as your wife is taking you to bed so that you may yet rest tonight” Caramelinda sweeps Lazuli out of her chair, lifting her in the air and striding back into their bedchamber. Laz relaxes in the comforting strength of her arms and lets herself be carried and laid gently upon the bed. Cara slides in next to her, and as the Bulb’s rays call dawn to the horizon, she wraps her arms around her lover and whispers in her ear,

“Please stay.”

_lift your head and look out the window_

_stay that way for the rest of the day and watch the time go_

_listen, the birds sing_

_listen, the bells ring_

_all the living are dead, and the dead are all living_

_the war is over and we are beginning_

Caramelinda is roused before the first songs of the Sugarbirds have been sung. She is sat in front of a vanity and her caramel locks put up and woven with precious gems by the clever fingers of the handmaiden who has been given to her by the Rocks. Caramelinda sits quietly and stares dutifully forwards, seeing only the heavy veil cast over the vanity’s mirror. Time passes. She doesn’t know how long. The servant leads her to the dressing area, opens a wardrobe, then steps back behind the folding screen, leaving Caramelinda alone.

She stares at the many hanging gowns. Rich damask milksilks in all manner of hues fill the rail, interrupted only by two monochromatic garments. A heavy black dress, the fabric, though luxurious, undecorated. Before the mourning attire, there is an airy white gown with a long cotton candy train. The multiple tiers of skirts are trimmed with clear crystalline rock candy, hanging delicately on gossamer threads. Caramelinda’s eyes go immediately to the tiny tear she knows is on the left sleeve cuff, where Lazuli had taken her hand at the altar, hands excitedly shaking as she overzealously slid the ring on her finger. She looks down, and the ring is still there, hasn’t moved from where Laz had placed it.

Caramelinda takes off the ring. She stands still for a moment. The ring feels impossibly heavy in her palm. She slowly tilts her hand over and lets the ring’s own weight carry it across her fingers and clatter on to the floorboards. It rolls underneath the wardrobe, and Caramelinda knows she will have to retrieve it, but not right now. Not when its about to be replaced. Not when she can’t feel her heart in her chest, the breath in her lungs. Only the lack of something, the absence of what used to be.

She lets her nightshift fall to the floor and steps out of it. Closes her eyes, lets herself be dressed in the new, hastily made, white gown the handmaiden brings. With the unsteady armistice, alliances must be solidified. In the morning, she will be queen, and she will be on her way to Comida with the king. Her husband. She must perform her role.

Caramelinda doesn’t open her eyes until she hears the bells toll. The doors of the chapel begin to open before her. The Queen of Candia sets her shoulders back, raises her chin, and strides forwards.

**Author's Note:**

> i truly love Caramelinda so much. everything shes been through, combined with the seemingly elastic barrier between life and death in this world made me think of the song "Up in Our Bedroom After the War" by Stars, esp. "all the living are dead/and the dead are all living". i could probably write about every character in ACOC with that line tbh. anyways thanks for reading! you can find me on tumblr @nonbeaunary if you would like to Feel Emotions about Caramelinda with me <3


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